


Stronger Than Any Liquor

by Kurikukun



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 1920s, Alcohol, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Clothed Sex, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley doesn't want his seats ruined, Dirty Talk, Frottage, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), It's mostly a fuck ton of grinding, M/M, On the Bentley, Pining, Public Hand Jobs, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:28:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24778393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kurikukun/pseuds/Kurikukun
Summary: A demon and an angel walk into a bar during peak prohibition times in Chicago and get absolutely hammered. What could go wrong?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 102





	Stronger Than Any Liquor

_**Chicago, 1927** _

“You’ve _got_ to have something stronger than that, haven’t you?” Crowley asked loudly as he slammed his glass on the counter. The demon had been there all but 10 minutes, yet was expecting to be hammered by now. Work had been so stressful for him lately; Beelzebub contacted him a few months ago stating he, and a few other demons, was being stationed in America for the time being. Something about the stock market crashing in a few years and needing a lot of tempting. Crowley wasn’t that fond of leaving Britain on such short notice, especially since he had just bought his new prized possession. His Bentley. He had to bring it with him when he moved to America, which was very inconvenient on his part. Another thing he didn’t like was that America was in the middle of a prohibition so now the only way he could get a drink is going to one of the several underground bars located around the country. He thought it was ridiculous, blaming alcohol for the problems of aggressive men. 

The bar he was in currently wasn’t anything spectacular, but it was rather impressive for a place that was supposed to be secret. The room had an overall red tint to it, the bar itself and the barstools being some shade of red. The walls were made of bricks and were covered in American film posters (they were just becoming popular) and the usual decorations that would accompany any bar. Loud jazz music blared to his left, which gave him the idea that the walls were somehow sound proof. There were at least 10 other men in the bar with him, not including the bartender. All dressed nicely and enjoying themselves. 

“C’mon for an underground _‘super secret’_ bar you’d think you’d have the good shit hidden around somewhere!” His arms motioned dramatically to the large assortment of illegal booze, his eyes squinted behind his dark sunglasses. Truth be told he was already on the more intoxicated side, but he wanted more. The bartender stared at him with his own squint before hesitantly reaching behind the counter and retrieving a bottle of unlabeled alcohol. 

“It’ll be extra.” The man said, refilling the previously empty glass with what was in the bottle. Crowley replied by pulling a random wad of cash from his breast pocket and placing it on the counter. 

“I think that’ll do. Oh, and leave the bottle like a good chap. Thanks.” The bartender stared at the money for a moment before taking it into his own pocket. Crowley gave a grin as he nodded his head towards the man, holding his glass up to him with a small ‘cheers’ before having a taste. The strength of it made him recoil, his face contorting and his throat feeling like it was on fire. Now _that_ is good shit. He gave himself a satisfied laugh before going back for seconds. Then thirds. Then fourths and fifths. By the time he felt a strange, yet familiar presence near him, half of the bottle was gone. 

“Hello, Crowley.” A familiar voice soon pulled Crowley out of his drunken thoughts. Crowley glanced over his shoulder to see someone who was definitely out of place in an underground illegal bar. Aziraphale. Everyone else was relatively wearing the same thing, a dress shirt and a dark blazer with a fedora or another sort of similar hat. Crowley had also worn something along those lines. He wore a dark grey dress shirt covered with a black and white striped waist coat and a black blazer. But the angel still insisted on wearing his usual beige and tartan attire, even in this day in age. He’s basically asking to be taken advantage of, looking like a cupcake. Crowley raised a brow and set his glass down. 

“And what the deuce are _you_ doing here, Aziraphale?” He asked, his speech obviously slurred from the hour he spent drinking. Aziraphale fiddled with his coat, his shoulders tense as he looked around at the other patrons and bright lights around him. 

“This place as awful tastes in decoration.” He spoke with a frown. “Anyway, I’m simple here for business. Heard you were in the area. Decided I should spy on what evil deeds you’re preforming in America while I’m here.” Crowley narrowed his eyes. Business, huh? He wondered what Heaven would want Aziraphale here for. To stop the mass amount of crime that is going around in the area? Not likely. 

“Not much of a spy if you come up to me. And how exactly did you find me? I thought I was being pretty stealthy. Sssecret bar and all.” Crowely cleared his throat when he heard his lisp coming out, taking a mental note to be more aware of that. Oh, how he hated that damn snake accent he was cursed with. 

“Bentley parked up front gave me a hint.” 

“Ah. Forgot about that. Amazing car, she is.” Crowley gave a head nod before taking another drink of his hard liquor. “Well if you must know, I was forced to come to Chicago because big bad Beelzebub said so. Something about stocks and ‘the tempting is amazing here!’” He made several hand gestures as he made his best drunken interpretation of his boss. “So, decided to come here. Calm my nerves. Seriously, have you talked to a lot of old coots about stock market crap? It’s exhausting. Oh, here,” He patted the empty barstool next to him. “C’mon, have a drink with me.” 

“I have _no intentions_ of participating in illegal activities, Crowley. I was merely stopping by.” Aziraphale huffed with a frown. As much as he would love a drink, the rule of alcohol being bad in America kept him back. He was an angel, so he must be a good example, right? An angel that went to see his demon friend in an illegal bar. Crowley let out a dramatic sigh. 

“Oh _come on_ , angel!” He whined, exaggerating the ‘angel’. “No one’s gotta know. Plus, you can’t tell me a stuffy person like yourself _doesn’t_ want a drink about now. You must have some juicy gossip you want to spill. We can both just take our minds off work and enjoy ourselves a bit.” Crowley continued to motion to the seat next to him as he spoke. Aziraphale bit his lip while avoiding eye contact as much as possible. Crowley was right. Gabriel was being more of an ass than usual, and was being a pain in every feather of his wings. But he was here to do good deeds, not get drunk with a demon while on duty. Or that’s at least what he kept telling himself. 

“Under any other circumstances I would take on your offer, but Crowley-” 

“Then let this make up for our little debacle at St. James a few decades back. We did leave on a sour note, literally.” Crowley frowned as he took another drink. Yes, 1862. The two haven’t seen each other since he asked Aziraphale for Holy Water and was turned away. Despite Crowley’s words, during that time he never really did find another person to fraternize with. “Please, angel? I’ll make it worth your while.” Once again, he patted the bar stool. Aziraphale bit his lip before he opened his mouth a few times as if to stand his ground. But for some reason, he felt obligated to stay. 

“Well, I suppose one drink wouldn’t hurt. But just one!” Crowley grinned wide as Aziraphale finally took a seat, adjusting his already perfectly adjusted coat out of habit. “So, what will we be having tonight?” He asked. 

“I have no idea, but you _need_ to try this.” He motioned to the bottle in front of him. “Has to be some sort of whiskey. But damn, it has a _punch_ to it!” With a flick of his finger, another glass appeared in front of Aziraphale. “Now, tell me all about those bastards up in Heaven.” 

* * *

The angel and demon duo were barely able to stumble out of the bar as gunshots rang behind them. Making their way to the door and running down sidewalk would have been an easy task if they weren’t both completely hammered and could actually see in front of their own face. After running close to where the Bentley was parked, a good few meters away, they finally stopped to catch their breath. The moon illuminated what the streetlamps didn’t, so Crowley assumed they were both in the bar for 2 hours at the very least; he had entered when the sun had just set. He would look at his watch to see the time but he was so drunk he couldn’t concentrate on the small numbers on it. 

Aziraphale leaned against a light post as he panted, Crowley leaning against the driver side of his car. He dusted off his striped fedora, which had a bullet hole going straight through it. If a little demonic miracle didn’t take place, perhaps the bullet would have gone through a lot more than the expensive fabric. With a wave of his finger, the hole was repaired. 

“Well that was fun.” Crowley finally broke the silence as he put the hat back on his head, looking over at Aziraphale with a drunken grin. Aziraphale, who had caught his breath (breath he didn’t even need since he was an angel), looked back at the demon with furrowed brows. His entire world was spinning and the sudden rush of adrenaline didn’t help the alcohol in his system. 

“Fun? You call being swarmed by the mafia and being almost shot in the head _fun?!_ ” He asked in disbelief. “I bet they were working for your people!” 

“Wot? _No_ !” Crowley protested. “Thossse were just a bunch of lowlife gangsters wanting to cause trouble, nothing to do with me! Why the hell would I go to a bar that I _knew_ would be targeted?” He opened his arms out as he leaned forward a bit. “C’mon I might be stupid, but I’m not an idiot!” Aziraphale let out a huff, and went to tighten his bowtie as he tried not to stumble. He was still extremely intoxicated, after all. 

“Even so, I would say a night of dancing would be fun. _That?_ Very dangerous. Could have discorporated us both!” Crowley shrugged his shoulders before nodding slightly, taking a cloth out of his pocket so he could clean the dirt off of his sunglasses. He hadn’t noticed how dirty they had gotten until now. Aziraphale got a glimpse of bright yellow snake eyes before Crowley looked downward to focus on his glasses. 

“Right, Right. I get it. No more humans with big shooty things. Not your style.” He put his glasses back on his face. “So, how about I take you somewhere else? Dancing, you said. C’mon I’ll take you somewhere nice since the night’s still young!” Aziraphale frowned when he saw Crowley reach for the door handle of his car. 

“What? You are _not_ driving anywhere when you and I both are wildly intoxicated!” He slapped away Crowley’s hand when he got close enough. Though, he had to lean against the Bentley when he realized he moved a bit too fast. 

“And why not? My driving skills are pretty good, angel. Drunk or not.” 

“At least sober up before getting behind the wheel, Crowley!” 

“Oi, I paid good money for that liquor and I want to keep it in my system for another few hours.” Crowley reached for the door handle again but was met with another slap. He glared at the angel preventing him from opening the door, who gave a glare back. When Crowley went for another tug at the handle, Aziraphale gave him a slight push away from the door. 

“I will not allow you to put others in danger like that!” Aziraphale raised his voice. “If not them, then- then I don’t want _you_ putting yourself in danger. You already gave me a fright tonight!” 

“Oh, so suddenly you care about me? What about the whole fraternizing business and being enemies? Forgot all about that, angel?” Crowley retorted rather coldly. “You shouldn’t be so worried about me.” 

“We _are_ enemies! I shouldn’t have even let you tempt me into drinking with you.” Aziraphale frowned, looking up at Crowley and into his serpent eyes though those dark lenses. “But I can’t let yourself get away with something so reckless! So please, get away from the car.” Crowley didn’t know why, but he was suddenly very angry. He didn’t understand. Aziraphale had always been vague about his true feelings about him. Did he hate him because they were enemies? If that was the case why do they have the arrangement? It was all too many questions for his drunk brain to process. So, when he felt Aziraphale give him another light push away from the Bentley, he grabbed Aziraphale by his arms and pushed him against the hood of the car, pinning his wrists on either side of his head. Aziraphale let out a gasp, almost not even processing what had happened until the back of his head was pressed against cold metal and Crowley was on top of him. 

“Why do you _alwaysss_ insist we’re enemies yet always act like we’re all buddy-buddy whenever we need each other?!” Crowley growled, baring his fangs in the process. He didn’t bother hiding his lisp, being too overwhelmed by his emotions. “You care about my sssafety yet still think we shouldn’t' be hanging out, oh I'm sssorry, fraternizing? Do you hate me? Do you like me? Why can’t you just make up your mind?!” Aziraphale was quiet, his eyes wide as he simply took in the demon’s angry words. His heart was racing. He should have been scared. After all, there was a very angry demon on top of him. But the rush he felt wasn’t from fear. Quite the opposite. Crowley was so close that he could feel his warmth on his own body, his hands tightly gripping against his wrists, and the absolute look of anger that was on his face. He didn’t know if it was the alcohol making him feel this way, but he was getting a bit flustered. Dare he say he was turned on by being thrown around a bit. 

“I...” Aziraphale started, finding himself looking up from Crowley’s shielded eyes to his lips, his expression calm with the slightest sign of lust. He made no attempt to fight back against Crowley’s still tight grip against his wrists. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Crowley.” Crowley’s expression softened a bit, his eyebrows furrowing as he just realized the position he was in. On top of Aziraphale, holding his wrists down on the hood of his car. Go- Sat- Somebody, what was he doing? Awkwardly, Crowley let go of Aziraphale’s wrists and slowly pulled away from him, a blush running over his cheeks from the sheer embarrassment. Did he really just lose his temper like that? He probably looked like an idiot! 

“Sorry, I-” Crowley cleared his throat. “Lose my temper a bit. Alcohol does crazy stuff doesn’t it?” He mumbled, avoiding eye contact as he pulled at his shirt collar. Aziraphale, a bit disappointed, moved so he was now leaning up against the side of the Bentley, lighting rubbing his wrists as he stared. 

“That approach was, ah, not unwelcome.” Aziraphale mumbled, also avoiding eye contact. “I rather, um, enjoyed that little, ah... Display. You holding me down. That.” He made a few hand gestures as he tried to speak, finding it hard to say his thoughts out loud. Crowley finally looked at Aziraphale with a rather shocked expression. 

“...Did you just say you _liked_ being pinned down by me?” He asked, to which Aziraphale nodded slowly. “Well, that’s, ah. That’s certainly a thing.” When Crowley focused, well, as much as his drunk brain would allow him, he could finally sense it. Lust. It was radiating off Aziraphale, and he could feel it hitting him like waves. There was a very awkward silence between them before Crowley cleared his throat again. “I could, y’know,” He paused as he motioned a hand towards Aziraphale. “...Do it again. If ya want.” His voice was more of a soft mumble as he awkwardly shoved his hands in his pockets. Aziraphale bit his lip for a moment, thinking about his offer before nodding again. 

“I think I would rather like that.” 

“Right, right.” Crowley slowly made his way towards Aziraphale, the blush on his face only growing the closer he got. Eventually, he took his hands out of his pockets to he could gently push Aziraphale onto the hood again. Instead of pinning his wrists, he settled for putting his hands on either side of Aziraphale’s body. After staying still for a few moments, Aziraphale suddenly reached up and slowly took Crowley’s glasses, setting them somewhere to his side. He wanted to see his eyes. Crowley’s pupils were dilated, still resembling snake slits but being much wider than usual. The two simply stared at each other for a moment, seeming to forget the world around them as they got lost in each other’s eyes. Aziraphale’s were half lidded and full of want. Desire. 

“Crowley...” Aziraphale let out a soft whine, running a hand over Crowley’s cheek. Crowley could barely contain himself, finally leaning in to press his lips against the angel’s. In an instant, he felt his whole body be hit with a wave of warmth and comfort not even whiskey could bring him. And when Aziraphale kissed him back, it was like fireworks. He found himself moving his hips into Aziraphale’s, to which the angel moaned against the kiss in delight. As they continued, pecks on the lips turning into something much more heated and intense with tongue, Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowley’s neck as he moved his hips in rhythm. Crowley hissed softly, feeling just how hard the other had become in such a short period of time. Well, good to see their bodies felt the same. 

“Do you like that, angel?” Crowley growled softly as he continued to grind into Aziraphale’s groin, earning a moan in return when their cocks started to rub against each other, only being separated by the very unneeded fabric of their dress pants. “You’re practically glowing with lust right now.” He teased, to which Aziraphale pulled him back into another sloppy kiss, his hands running through the demon’s dark red locks and giving them a small tug. Crowley’s hat fell off in the process. 

“And who’s fault is that?” He replied with a small grin. Though, he seemed to just remember where they actually were right now. In public. Out in the open. Now that he thought about it, homosexuality wasn’t looked at keenly to here in the states... Neither was public indecency. But Aziraphale wasn’t willing to stop now that this had gotten good. “How about we, ah, continue this in the back?” He asked, motioning to the Bentley. Suddenly Crowley stopped the movement of his hips and frowned, his expression doing a complete turn from lustful and playful to very concerned and horrified. 

“We can’t do that, angel. As much as I want to pound you into next Sunday, I don’t wanna ruin the new seats. Can’t risk any... fluids getting on them.” Aziraphale frowned, raising an unamused eyebrow. 

“...You’re really worried about dirtying your seats? _Really_ , Crowley? We’re in the open!” 

“She’s brand new, angel! Got her a few months ago. She still has the new car smell and everything!” Crowley tried to defend himself. Aziraphale huffed, but got another idea. Even though they were still out in the open, he had a suspicion no one would see them. Another miracle wouldn’t hurt, would it? 

“You’re ridiculous, you know. Then, how about we try something else?” Before Crowley could ask what he had meant, Aziraphale was already working on getting his snake scale belt undone. After struggling, and maybe using a slight miracle, he finally had the demon’s trousers undone. Crowley let out a soft hiss as he felt a cold hand grasp his cock, the other hand pulling his trousers down just so it was now out in the open. He hadn’t even noticed how cold it had gotten outside until now. For him, the cold was amplified, being a snake and all. 

“...’M bloody freezing, angel.” He whispered, exhaling as Aziraphale gave his cock a few slow strokes. Aziraphale gave a small smile as he started working on his own trousers. 

“I’ll make sure to warm you up then, dear.” He replied, his own cock now being in his other hand. He motioned for Crowley to move closer, biting his lip when their cocks finally pressed against each other. He could have sworn he heard Crowley hiss a small ‘oh God’ under his breath. “There, now...” He mumbled to himself as he wrapped a hand around both of their lengths. Crowley groaned as Aziraphale started to thrust his hips upward, creating a wonderful sensation. He quickly caught on, now matching his own hip thrusts with the movement of Aziraphale’s hand. 

“F-Fuck, angel...” He groaned, his nails threatening to dig into the metal of the Bentley. Of course, he wouldn’t dare let that happen. 

“Does-Does it feel good?” Aziraphale asked, being interrupted by a small moan of his own. His grip only tightened as Crowley’s hips moved faster. Rougher. More frantic. The two unintentionally came up with a system: Crowley being in charge of the movement while Aziraphale was in charge of how tightly he gripped. Crowley simply replied by pulling Aziraphale into another deep kiss, his hands frantically working to undo the angel’s bowtie. He settled on giving it a hard tug and forcing the first few buttons of his dress shirt to come undone. 

“You drive me bloody insane,” Crowley growled in Aziraphale’s ear, moving his kisses down the other’s soft jawline down to his neck, giving his collarbone a harsh suck. “Do you know how much I _want_ you right now? How much I want to _fuck_ you?” He asked in a hushed voice, leaning his body forward so now Aziraphale’s hips and legs were raised up, his hands gripping tightly under the angel’s knees. All the while Aziraphale still held their cocks together with his now slicked up hand, Crowley not easing up on his thrusting. 

“C-Crowley,” Aziraphale moaned, his breath hitching when he felt another love mark being sucked on his sensitive neck. “Someone will catch us if we-ah. If we keep going like this...” He whined, even though he knew it wasn’t likely (The many perks of angelic miracles). Crowley just let out a low chuckle. 

“At this point I don’t care if all of Chicago hears us. In fact,” He gave a particularly sharp thrust, which made both of them moan. “I think like the idea of everyone being able to hear how cute you sound. How _I’m_ the one making you make those noises.” Aziraphale could feel himself losing his composure a bit, what little he had left. His face had turned bright red, and he felt like he was going to reach his limit if Crowley continued on. Though, he wanted him to. He _needed_ him too. 

“Wh-What would you do to me?” He asked, curiosity getting the better of him. “If you could-ah. Do whatever you want?” Crowley smirked, moving away from Aziraphale’s neck so he could look into his eyes. 

“Naughty little hedonist, you are. Well,” He made a point to show off his fangs as he kept that mischievous grin. Oh, how that made Aziraphale swoon. “I would flip you over and rip these stupid trousers off of these gorgeous thighs of yours, for starters.” For a moment, Crowley’s hips slowed. “Then, I would grind my cock against your arse until your whining and _begging_ for me to put it inside of you. When I finally decide to give you what you want, I’ll fuck you _niiiice and slow_.” The more Crowley spoke, the more Aziraphale felt himself falling apart at the seams. He was so close. He just needed that little push. He was disappointed to find that when he tried to move his hand, Crowley put his own on top of it and stopped him from doing so. 

“You foul fiend...” The angel muttered, to which Crowley let out another amused chuckle. 

“I would fuck you at that agonizing pace until you’re about to crumble in my hands,” He continued. “But finally, after waiting so patiently for me, I would start moving faster. As fast and as hard as you want.” He started to move his hips again, now allowing Aziraphale to move his hand in rhythm with his rough thrusts. “I would pound into you until you’re too sssore to walk the next day. Until you’re a trembling mess filled to the brim with me. Isss that what you _want_?” Crowley asked as his grip on Aziraphale’s thighs grew tighter, losing his own composure as he saw Aziraphale look back at him with his mouth agape, his hand frantically jerking off both of their cocks as he reached his limit. 

“ _Y-Yes...!_ ” Aziraphale groaned loudly as he finally released. That was enough to make Crowley go over as well, closing his eyes as he spilled all over Aziraphale’s stomach and waist coat. He finally collapsed, his arm catching himself from completely falling on top of Aziraphale’s chest as he panted and rode out the waves of his orgasm. Aziraphale did the same, his whole body relaxing as he closed his eyes and reviled in the pure bliss he was feeling. It was like years of tension went away in seconds. He finally took his hand away from their cock, seeing how it was covered in both Crowley and his own cum. He simply stared at it before he looked down at himself. He suddenly furrowed his brows and frowned. 

“Oh, this is truly awful!” Aziraphale whined, breaking Crowley out of the euphoria he was currently feeling. He frowned as he looked at Aziraphale, slight concern on his face. 

“What is it?” He asked. 

“Look at the state of my waistcoat!” He motioned to the large splatters of jizz all over his clothing. “I’ve kept this coat in near perfect condition for over 60 years! I’ll never be able to get these stains out.” Crowley’s expression flipped, and he gave Aziraphale a disappointed look. 

“I can’t believe you ruined my high for that. You can just miracle it away!” Crowley replied in disbelief. Aziraphale continued to pout as he felt Crowley move up away from his body. “God- Satan- fucking somebody, I should to sober up.” He mumbled to himself. Aziraphale agreed. Both of them went through the strange ritual of tensing up and making strange faces as the alcohol left their bloodstreams, both smacking their lips as a foul taste was left in their mouths. Finally, Crowley’s head didn’t feel fuzzy and he could stand up straight without stumbling. 

“I could miracle it away, but... I would always know the stains were there.” Aziraphale mumbled, returning to the task at hand as Crowley zipped up his trousers. Even though he was still preforming a miracle so they wouldn’t be caught, he couldn’t muster up another to fix this minor inconvenience. Crowley stared at him, then the stains, and took a step forward. Putting his lips together, he blew a soft stream of air and with a little demonic miracle, the stains had vanished as well as the rest of the evidence of their little display. Aziraphale looked down to see his waist coat in perfect condition once again, and looked up at Crowley with a small smile. 

“Ah. Thank you.” He replied. After a small awkward silence, Aziraphale got off of the hood of the Bentley and adjusted himself after remembering his trousers were still open and that his dress shirt was still a mess. Crowley watched him redress himself, moving from one foot to the other as he tried to think of what to say. He looked down at his watch now that he was able to actually focus. 2:20am. He finally opened his mouth to say something but before he could, that’s when the authorities finally pulled up to where the underground bar was. He had completely forgotten the place was shot up, and was surprised it took them that long to actually show up. Convenient, though. 

“Well looks like that’s our cue to leave, don’t you think?” Crowley asked as he watched the officers entered the bar, soon picking up his long lost sunglasses and putting them back on his face. Aziraphale adjusted his coat with a nod. 

“Yes, I do believe it is.” He replied. 

“So... Now that I’m sober, can I give you a ride anywhere?” He asked as he leaned his arm against the door of the Bentley. Aziraphale fumbled with his coat sleeves as he glanced from the Bentley to Crowley as if having an internal debate with himself. He knew that he really should decline, but considering what they had just finished doing, the idea of what’s right and wrong didn’t seem to matter. Plus, it was pretty late and chilly out and he didn’t fancy walking alone. 

“I suppose I have to accept.” He finally replied, to which Crowley nodded and opened the door to the driver’s side. 

“Well? Climb on in then. I promise you she’s way better than a horse and buggy.” Crowley exclaimed with a grin. Aziraphale popped into the passenger side and looked around at the interior. It was certainly different from the modes of transportation he’s been in over the years. “Now, where am I taking ya?” He asked as the Bentley kick started, which spooked Aziraphale a bit. 

“I’m staying in a flat a few blocks away from here, actually. You can just drop me off there. I’ll give you directions.” Aziraphale replied, noticing that the bar had gained a bit of a crowd from all the commotion. Crowley nodded and quickly sped away from the scene. The whole trip was an... experience. Aziraphale was gripping onto the dashboard for dear life as Crowely drove like a maniac down the empty streets. What should have been a peaceful late-night joy ride turned into a one-minute ride of horror, Aziraphale seeing his life flash before his eyes as Crowley took a sharp turn. When Crowley finally parked his car, Aziraphale breathed the biggest sigh of relief. 

“So, how was that? Amazing machine, she is.” Crowley looked over at Aziraphale with the proudest grin, finding the ride a rather fun time. Aziraphale gave the soft glare. 

“If _that_ is how you drive sober, I dread to imagine how you are intoxicated.” He huffed, finally composing himself. “I do appreciate the lift, as horrific of an experience as it was. Thank you.” He opened the car door and stepped out. Crowley frowned as he watched him walk around the Bentley to get to the door of the apartment complex. 

“Hey, about earlier...” He called out after rolling down his window, leaning his arm against it. “Sorry that I lost my temper when you were just looking out for me. But... I could stay at your place tonight, if you’d like. Maybe continue with where we left off?” He offered, an uneasy smile on his face. Aziraphale turned to face him, and gave him his own uneasy smile. But it was mostly sympathetic. 

“I think we had enough shenanigans for tonight, my dear boy.” He replied softly. “But perhaps someday I’ll take you up on that offer. But not today.” Crowley frowned again, and didn’t do much to hide his disappointment. When he described what he wanted to do to Aziraphale, he was telling the truth. He had been wanting to do that since Eden. But he wasn’t going to force Aziraphale to do anything. 

“Yeah, right. Right. Later.” He mumbled, his grip on the steering wheel growing tighter. Aziraphale smiled and opened the door to the building, offering a small wave. 

“Careful out there, Crowley.” 

“Yeah, I will. Thanks.” With that Aziraphale had disappeared behind the doors. Crowley leaned back in his chair and let out a long, dramatic sigh. He couldn’t believe he was friend zoned after they had just jerked each other off on top of his Bentley. He would never understand Aziraphale. What he said when he was angry still applied to now. How did he actually feel about him? Did he just act that way because he was drunk and was weak in the moment? It was all too confusing for him. Instead of thinking about it any further, he started to think about what his newest plan was going to be. His assignment was still the same: convince people to buy stocks because there’s going to be a crash soon. But he thought that was boring. Maybe it was time to spice things up a bit. Well, more spice than what had just happened. 

“Maybe I should try the flapper fashion.” He wondered. 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic spent a long time in the making, mostly from procrastinating and a lot of planning. I would like to thank Ryoukon and her artwork for inspiring this piece!


End file.
